


Antidote

by shewearsglasses



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Always a Girl Dean Winchester, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Drunken Shenanigans, F/F, Friendship/Love, Gender or Sex Swap, Genderbending, Genderbent Ash, Genderbent Castiel, Genderbent Dean Winchester, Genderbent Ellen Harvelle, Genderbent Jessica Moore, Genderbent Jo Harvelle, Genderbent Sam Winchester, Human Castiel, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, POV Second Person, Second Chances, always a girl castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-29
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-21 07:50:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1543205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewearsglasses/pseuds/shewearsglasses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her lips are like fire against your pulse. Your breath comes out in cool puffs and they light up the cold air with blossoming white. You sigh her name, low and husky. "Cas," you whisper. "Cas."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Antidote

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this like a year ago, and it never got any attention on fanfiction, so hopefully it'll get more attention here.
> 
> I think it's one of my better-written pieces, and I absolutely love genderswapped destiel!

 Her lips are like fire against your pulse. Your breath comes out in cool puffs and they light up the cold air with blossoming white. You sigh her name, low and husky. “Cas,” you whisper. “Cas.”

Her eyes are so blue when she looks up, like the ocean on a bright, summer day. They shine with passion and dark lust fogging the currents. The smile that tilts her lips is dangerous, and you nearly reach around to capture her lips against your own, but when you move, your eyes snap and all there is becomes nothing.

You wake up.

You’re alone in the room; the bed springs creak as you sit up, holding your head in one hand. You scratch at your hair, groaning as you do so. It’s been awhile since you’ve had a dirty dream like that, but obviously not long enough. When you look down, you realize you slept in your clothes from the evening before.

A black skin-tight dress that almost cuts off your breath is ruffled where you rolled over, and your ankle boots feel awkward against the bed. You sigh and you just know there’s a print of your make-up against the satin-y pillow. What a night though… All things considered.

The bathroom light is on, probably Sam straightening that damn hair of hers; it’s enough to have you rolling your eyes. She’d always been the more proper one of the pair of you: clean cut, classy, and smiling. You’re all smirks, and short skirts, with red lips against the curve of your wrist. A laugh breaks the silence and you recognize her voice from behind the door, on the phone, then?

She laughs again and you start up, moving your feet to the floor and cringing at the pain in your ankle. You memory reflects on a twist and pull as you danced around the floor, backing some unfamiliar girl into the corner and stumbling in the process. Her hands were deft and easily tweaked your legs to stop the process and there came the pain. So, it twisted when you got too handsy? Not an uncommon occurrence, but usually the ladies went for the toes.

You move across the room on feather-light toes, but your ankle drags a little and your nose scrunches in discomfort. Your ear is against the door by the time her tinkling laugh echoes a third time.

“Oh, Jessie.” Sam whispers, voice delayed by the hum of the hair dryer turning off. “No, she’s asleep. Yeah, went pretty hard last night, didn’t she? Ha! I hope Cassie isn’t too freaked though. Yeah? Great! I’ll see you later, then? Yep. Alright! Love you.”

The click of the phone should alert you, but unfortunately, your head is still flat against the cold wood of the door when the knob turns. You stumble through right into Sam. She blinks and replaces her confusion with the best bitchface you’ve ever seen. “Deana, really?”

“Hey, Sammy.” You hear yourself say. A smirk presents itself on your raw lips.

“Do you realize the damage you may have done last night?” Sam is saying, but you turn away, waving your hand in a nonchalant manner, hoping to shut her up.

You regard the window for a moment before opening the curtains and staring out at the mid-day sky. “Yeah, yeah. Same old, same old. Which girl did I turn off this time?”

“Deana!” Sam shouts, voice rising above her usual drawl. “You really hurt Cassie’s feelings, you know that? Be serious for a _second_!”

“Cassie?” You blink alert, suddenly realizing how serious this situation actually is. “I- What? What’d I do?” Your voice is dangerous and low and you turn on Sam immediately.

She smiles, undoubtedly proud of herself for finally catching your attention. “You kissed her.”

The breath you’re holding is released into the calm air and your lungs freeze up, not quite processing what’s happening. Your heart stutters over a beat and you feel like ice. You’re numb to the touch and all feeling in the room is gone. Cassie. Cas. You kissed Cas. Your eyes close of their own accord and you flinch away from the hand Sam reaches out with. “God damnit!”

Your hiss falls on deaf ears, Sam stands and you hear the dull steps of her converse as she leaves you alone. “I’m doing out with Jessie. Maybe she’ll be there, we’re gonna be at Roadhouse Diner if you wanna come by.”

The door closes with a soft thump and you don’t move from where you’re crouched on the floor, head in your hands. You hiss out curse after curse and cannot believe yourself, suddenly. It’s all you can do not to hate everything you’ve ever done for this one mistake.

It was supposed to be perfect. It would’ve been perfect. Cas is and has always been the girl you love. You look to the floor, suddenly noticing the flannel shirt hidden half under your bed. You had been wearing that very shirt the first time you met her. Ever since that first day she walked into your garage, regarding your greasy appearance with little more than a tilt of her head, you’d been head over flashy boots.

“Excuse me?” You tilt your head to see the newcomer, a strange girl in a long trench-coat. “Do you work here?”

You nod, rubbing the grease from your hands onto your cheek accidentally, before smiling and cleaning the remaining grease with a rag from your back-pocket. “You need help with something?” The garage frowned upon flirting, but the way you lick your lips says exactly what you think of that rule.

“Um.” She frowns, blue eyes regarding her boots with sudden interest. While she’s staring at the ground, you focus on her delicate features. Her eyes were the kind of blue you could drown in; they emphasize her pale, angelic skin against her dark locks. She’s the kind of beautiful that’s hard to come by, and you have to shake yourself from the domestic thoughts that set in. “I actually… My car’s not broken. I just… ran out of gas, and I was hoping you could help me out.”

You nod, twisting your hair into a half-assed bun, and throwing the rag somewhere behind you. “Sure thing, where ya parked?”

“Half-way up the road,” she says. You nod again, stepping up beside her and falling into easy conversation. You ask her about her life, learning everything from her name to her pet peeves to how fucking annoying her older sister, Gabriella, can be.

“Forgive me for cursing,” she says, frantically trying to correct her vulgarity. “I’m not usually so rude.”

“Oh, don’t be.” You assure her, “it’s kinda sexy, actually.”

Luckily you stumble upon the car at about that moment, because her downturned lips and twitching fingers are itching to turn you down. You push past the awkward moment by asking her to open the fuel door, and lifting your gas can onto the trunk. When she does as you ask, you pull off the gas cap and begin the slow process of pouring in the gas. She’s silent while you fill up her tank.

“Think you could give me a ride back to the garage when I’m done?” You ask, noticing how she’s staring.

She lifts her eyes to yours and you notice the spots reflected in the blue of her pupils for a long moment. She doesn’t respond, only nodding wordlessly and turning to get into the car. The drive back is filled with worried questions over how much she owes, all of which you shake off with a smile. “Just… Give me your number; maybe pay me back with a beer sometime?”

“I don’t drink.” Her eyes are fixed on the road, the definition of careful driver.

“You don’t—” Your eyes widen and you have to shake yourself from the stupor. Plenty of people don’t drink, you tell yourself. Despite how turned off she’d seemed by your advances, Cassie writes down her number on your palm, ignoring the grease stains decorating your fingertips.

“I do enjoy your presence,” she says with a soft smile. “Despite your uncomfortable come-ons, you are nice to talk to.” The subtle dig is ignored as a delicious smile curls on your red lips.

“The feeling’s mutual, I promise you.” You say with a wink, “I’ll call you later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she agrees, following you with her eyes as you open the door and step out. You call her later that night, smiling into the receiver as she yawns and promises to call you back when she’s “not sleeping. Deana, do you realize how late it is? I never would’ve given you my number if I’d have known you would call at three am!”

“But, I just got out of work!”

“That doesn’t mean call me immediately! Boundaries, Deana.”

She’s yawning again and you smirk, “I just wanted to hear your lovely voice before I fell asleep.”

“I’m hanging up now.” You had fallen asleep with dreams of her in your head, and when you woke up the next morning, your phone had had one missed call and a text that read: “Breakfast?”

Now, you curl your fingers over your eyes and scowl darkly. Cas was so quiet and had said repeatedly that you were friends. She obviously didn’t want anything more and you’d always been so good at not pushing her! To have kissed her now was bad beyond anything you could’ve possibly done. Especially due to your drunken state. A sober Deana could’ve been considered playful or flirty. A drunken Deana was honest in what she liked and what she wanted. Cas must now be aware that you’re not just playing, you’re smitten.

You reel around in a foggy state for a minute before looking up and locating your phone. You call her, dialing the number you’d long since memorized. The phone picks up on the fourth ring, “hello?”

“Cas! Oh God! I’m so glad you picked up! I—”

“Now’s not a good time, Deana. I’ll talk to you later.” Her quiet voice is even softer than usual, a hidden emotion coating every syllable like a blanket.

“Wait! Cas—” She hangs up with an audible click before you can get another word out. You sigh and collapse into the bed, wrapping your arms around the pillow and moaning. She must be ignoring you. There’s no other way of describing her behavior. You remember Sam’s comment about Roadhouse and you jump from the bed like lightning, avoiding stepping too harshly on your ankle, and tearing out of the apartment, keys in hand.

You get to the Diner in record time, almost ignoring Harvey’s welcoming smile as he spots you walking in, “hey darlin’.” He calls from behind the counter and Joe waves from the kitchen window. “They’re at the usual table,” he says.

You roll your eyes, “Like they’d be anywhere else.”

You follow the bar around the corner and there they are: Jessie, and Sam, cozied up with against one side, and Cassie, her back to you. They are chatting happily, and Cas seems to enjoy the company, despite being an obvious third wheel. Jessie notices you first; his eyes train on your form and narrow in suspicion. “Look who the cat dragged in,” Sam remarks from beside him. You watch as Cassie’s back visibly tenses, knowing without looking who is standing behind her.

You tease your hair out between your fingers and tilt a hip, “what? Don’t like my dress, Jessie? I’m so disappointed though.”

“It’s not very classy to go out in public looking like you’re on your walk of shame, Deana.” Sam says from beside him, eyeing your ankle, which has become overtly purple since you left the apartment.

You sigh loudly, “It’s also not very classy to masturbate in the shower, Sammy. But, I can hear your moans through the door.”

Sam pinks noticeably, covering her cheeks with her hands and nearly slamming her head on the table. Even Cassie blushes a bit at the crude comment; Jessie just laughs and nudges Sam’s shoulder. The girl sits back up, but won’t make eye contact with anyone for the rest of the meal. You sit down, scooting in next to Cassie despite her stiff pose. When the food is brought out ten minutes later, Joe has managed to include your usual order in the mix of things.

“So,” you start when Sam and Jessie have begun some kind of quiet discussion. Probably regarding what a punk-ass wimp Sam’s become. Cassie turns an eye to you despite the anger crinkling her nose, but remains facing forward. “I heard what happened last night?”

“You _heard_?” She says, a twist of bitterness encasing her words. “You heard? You mean you don’t even have the memory firsthand?”

You wince, she’s even angrier than you’d planned. “Look, Cas—”

“No.” She says, and Jessie and Sam look up at the sharp tone. “No, Deana. I’m not going to have this discussion with you. Not now, and especially not in front of your sister and her boyfriend. Drop it.”

Your mouth opens in a silent protest, but you decide against it and slip a forkful of waffles into your mouth instead. Breakfast from that point on is increasingly awkward, especially with Jessie and Sam eyeing the pair of you meaningfully. The climax of awkwardness is reached when Sam mouths “say something” at you, and Cassie catches your eye. You gulp down the orange juice in your mouth and nearly choke.

“Anyone up for roller-skating?” Jessie says when you’ve finally pushed your empty plate aside. You’re the last of the party to finish, and Joe stops by with the bill split three ways. Jessie pens in a tip and slides his card into the slot, declaring you will pay him back immediately, but Cas and Sam are on him. You glare from beneath your lashes.

“Count me out.” Cassie whispers, saying something about having work to do even as Sam agrees wholeheartedly.

You lift your hand onto your palm and glance at the other customers, some woman at the bar is eyeing up Joe, and you can’t help but glare softly. You give the woman credit for her sight, but he’s still basically your brother. You look up when Jessie clears her throat, and roll your eyes. “Nah,” you say. “You and Sam might need a bit of alone time, huh?” You wink suggestively and smirk when Sam sinks lower in her seat.

Cassie snorts into her water and you smile beautifully at her, it’s certainly a start.

The four of you are standing outside of Roadhouse, Sam’s hand is linked with Jessie’s, and the man throws an arm around her shoulder, dragging her ever closer. “Alright, see you guys later.” Sam says and the couple turns away.

“Wait!” Shouts Cassie from your side. “You’re my ride!”

Jessie smirks, “Oh. Gosh. I wonder how you’ll get home now.” He laughs and opens the door for Sam, moving around the car and getting in on the driver’s side. He’s still laughing as they peel out of the lot.

You grin at nothing in particular, kicking at the pebbles on the ground. “Well,” you start, and she looks around at you like you’re the devil, himself. You pause and rethink your tactic, “See you around, Cas.” Your smile disappears with the dust of Jessie’s tires, and you move toward your own vehicle.

“Wait.” Cassie calls. “Wait. I—” She looks skyward and closes her eyes, and finally, with a shrug of obvious disapproval, concedes. “Take me home.”

Your grin is back and possibly ten shades brighter, she winces. “You won’t regret it, Cas!”

She probably regrets it. Less than three minutes into the twenty minute drive, you’re apologizing, despite her earlier protests. “Cas, listen! I’m really sorry. I didn’t—I don’t want you to think that I—”

Her humming stops you in your tracks, “Deana, let me.” You glance at her from behind the wheel, but nonetheless, gesture for her to continue. “I’m not… offended by the gesture. Frankly, I’m just disheartened by your previous discretions. You’ve set somewhat of a precedent for yourself as a womanizer, ironic, really. Who’d have thought a day would come when a woman could be a womanizer, herself?” Her laugh is bitter and you can’t quite think of how to respond. She shifts in her seat, one leg looping over the other, hands at her earrings. “And a user in general, since I don’t suppose there’s a polite word to describe a lady who sleeps around with both men and woman.”

You open your mouth to object. “No, Deana, let me finish.” She says, and swallows, “I wasn’t offended by the gesture, I said. I actually…” Another swallow, before she clears her throat. “Enjoyed? The kiss.” Her voice rises in pitch and you smirk something unholy. “There. I enjoyed the kiss, Deana. I was offended because you’ve been known to take your nightly trysts like you drink your beer: all in one go without a singular thought otherwise. You ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ as the saying goes. Except nothing that goes on between those sheets can be considered love.”

“Fuck ‘em and duck ‘em is the saying you’re looking for,” you provide with a grimace, pulling the car into her space and sliding the keys from the ignition.

“Thank you.” She looks at you meaningfully, but continues nonetheless. “That’s exactly what I was meaning. You don’t stay in the relationship beyond the physical aspect. You want sex and nothing more. I… I don’t want that.”

“Cas—”

“Let me finish.” Her glare is embarrassed, pink shades her cheeks and you smile. She’s most beautiful when she’s worked up. Cassie is gorgeous in her anger and even prettier when you’re the cause. You don’t even care if that’s a cliché, you just want to lean in and kiss her lips swollen. “I don’t want that with you, Deana.” The look she gives you is akin to a pout and you nearly reach out. “I’ve been… enamored with you since we first met. I could’ve easily asked Ashley to help with my gas problem, but I saw you through the window and I just skipped right on past her. I blushed like crazy when you woke me up that night; I secretly wanted you to call back and refuse to hang up. I wanted to fall asleep listening to your voice.

“I think I’m in love with you, Deana, and I’m sorry if this destroys the friendship we had, but I don’t think we can discuss this situation without honesty and in all honesty, I enjoyed the kiss. I want you to kiss me again. And again. But, I also want you to know that I’m not like other girls. You can’t just… um… Fuck me and duck me. Especially since I now know where you live.” Her attempt at a joke is half-assed and you can see through her nerves. So, instead of responding, you do exactly what she’d been asking for: you kiss her.

Your lips meld together and hers are so _soft_. They aren’t what you imagined, they’re lightly chapped and the red of her lipstick feels sticky against your own peach color. You slide against her in the most literal sense, but she opens her mouth to you and the feelings expand and grow inside your chest.

When you open your eyes, you’re still sitting behind the steering wheel, and Cassie is staring at you like she’s been waiting for an answer for three years, which more than likely, she has been. You groan, because you want to kiss her like you had in your fantasy and in all the dirty dreams you’d had since first meeting the girl, but you know a kiss won’t solve the problem facing your friendship. Kissing could come later.

“Cas, I—” You start, but pause. Her eyes are so vulnerable and you read the pain like a book. She thinks you’re rejecting her and it hurts to even know she _thinks_ that. “Cass, I’ve been hopelessly flirting with you since the day we met. I don’t know why you haven’t yet realized that when you walk in the room, you’re all I see. I’ve been head over fucking killer heels—and I mean that in both senses, have you fucking _seen_ my bruises?—since day one. I love you, Cas. Of course. I mean, fuck! I only dump those bimbos ‘cause I’m waiting for my real deal. And that’s you, sweetheart.”

She blinks, confused. “You love me?”

“Yeah, idiot.” You lean over and flick her nose gently, fondness creeping dangerously into your bright eyes. “I’ve always loved ‘ya. Ask Sammy, she’s been shipping us together for two fucking years. Woulda’ shipped us all three if she’d met you earlier, too.”

“Oh.” Is all she says.

“Well, now that that’s out of the way…” You whisper, leaning your head back against the head rest and staring up at the ceiling. A firm press of lips against your cheek has you doing a double-take. You palm the mark, staring at her like she’d grown three heads, “Cas?”

She blushes red like a fire-truck, and whispers a goodbye before darting out of the car and into her apartment building. The lips on your cheek burn straight through to your heart and curls in your veins like an antidote to the poison she’d slipped you three years ago.

You watch as she slips into her building, cheeks lightening to a dull pink, but your ears burn red for the entire ride home.

**Author's Note:**

> I have half of an alternate ending written, so I may post it later as a sequel. Subscribe, or just pay attention to my profile and I'll let you know!


End file.
